Live Echoes

by Henry V. O'Neil

  “Of course not. I don’t even know if it exists. But I understand your question. Whoever shared this tape edited it heavily. It’s a long exchange, and the humans and Sims involved are clearly combat vets discussing their experiences in the war. The human voices have been removed, so what they said appears as text. But the bird-talk is all there, with an exact translation. Hours of it.”

  Jander exhaled without showing it. Unless Elder Paul had hoodwinked him and Varick, which was unlikely, only one recording of the meeting had been created. Heavily encrypted, it had been given to the captain of the Ajax, who had personally delivered it to Reena. So if an edited version of that tape had been disseminated, it was probably at her direction.

  “I imagine that would be very helpful, to people trying to decipher the Sims’ language.”

  “Immeasurably.”

  “Level with me, Erlon.” Mortas had never addressed the captain by his first name. “You’ve marched with my platoon and fought beside me. I’ll tell you everything I know, but you have to do the same. You’re not really with the brigade by chance, are you?”

  “I’m surprised that story has held up this long. No, I’m not here by chance. There’s a loose circle of linguists and scientists, in and out of uniform, who have been working on the Sim language for years. Originally I got myself sent to the Orphans because this outfit gets up close and personal with Sam and it sounded like a good opportunity to gather information.”

  “But you got hooked on the brigade.”

  “Don’t laugh; if it happened to a fat ass like Merkit, why not me?” Pappas pointed at him. “It happened to you, too. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come back.”

  “Okay, you got me. I’m one of the humans on that tape. I was there.” Mortas sat down on the low wall. “What do you want to know?”

  Chapter 7

  “General Merkit. It’s good to see you.” Reena Mortas stood in one of the most secure rooms in Unity Plaza, warmly shaking Merkit’s hand. Ridiculed as Olech Mortas’s throne room, the two-story chamber could generate amazingly realistic imagery of locations across the galaxy.

  “It’s good to see you too, Madame Chairwoman. It’s been a long month, as you know.”

  “It’s been the same way here. I’ve been forced to grant Zone Quest access to several planets that my husband promised to the veterans. It hasn’t been well received.”

  “I know. Between the Bounce and my sources, everyone seems to think you’ve been reduced to little more than a figurehead.” Merkit grinned. “Luckily, they’re wrong.”

  “Not completely. Part of this is a cover story, but part of it’s very real. And the more members of the Emergency Senate who buy the cover story, the less influence I wield.”

  “I’ve brought something that’s going to change that, ma’am.”

  “I expected there was a reason for this visit.” Reena looked past the general, to the room’s only other occupant. “Nathaniel, are we sure that we’re completely secure here?”

  “The room’s been swept within the last hour. Nothing detected, as usual. The three of us have been scanned, as has the file the general brought with him. All links outside the room have been temporarily severed. We can proceed.”

  “Very good.” Reena sat on a large, boxy chair with deep leather cushions while Merkit and Ulbridge stood to either side. “Please begin your briefing, General.”

  “As you already know, we’ve made great strides in surveilling the target planet Omega.” Merkit clicked a button on a remote control, and the lights dimmed in the tall room. “Long-range scanning detected no unnatural emissions from Omega, and nothing electronic at all. We were encouraged by this, and took it as a sign that whatever is building the Sim ships inside the planet has opted to forgo defensive scanning so as not to attract attention.

  “Honestly, this sector of space is so dead that without your specialized intelligence I doubt we would ever have found this place.” The lights died completely, and were replaced moments later with the darkness of space. “The lack of electronic defenses encouraged me to authorize a stealthy establishment of robotic surveillance close enough to Omega to gain observation of its surface.”

  The gray planet materialized in the room, first as a head-sized ball and then as a glowing sphere. Reena leaned forward, enraptured.

  “As you can see, there are forms of vegetation on Omega despite its status as a planet not habitable by humans. Although the planet has gravity and a thin atmosphere, that atmosphere is not breathable and we have not yet determined the nature of the vegetation.

  “However, that became a secondary concern when scanning revealed a series of miles-long, foundation-like rock formations buried at different locations across the planet. One of these formations is located close to the launch site of the only ship that has so far been observed emerging from Omega’s interior.” A blinking marker appeared on the gray surface, indicating the launch site. “Directed surveillance revealed that every one of these foundation-like formations has a similar large surface opening somewhere nearby.”

  “What do the analysts say about that?”

  “They’re the ones who realized that the rock structures were not natural. Once we discovered that they were purposely crafted, we tried focusing different kinds of cameras on them. We were successful with a variety of imaging used to locate ancient ruins on Earth.”

  “They’re cities?”

  “That’s what we’ve come to believe. Have a look.”

  The planet expanded, filling the room like a stone ball rolling forward to crush them. The blinking marker occupied the center of the new view, which now showed canyons and miles of vegetation alongside vast, empty plains. The picture resolved even more, and a maze-like circle took shape next to the marker. Reena studied it, seeing rings formed around an empty center.

  “This isn’t visible from space without augmentation?”

  “Correct. Without those special cameras, none of these remains would have been spotted. They’re buried under the soil, often concealed by surface overgrowth. We have no way of estimating their age, but the analysts believe these used to be cities.”

  “And every one of the launch-capable openings located so far has one of these near it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. So far we’ve identified roughly one hundred of the openings—it wasn’t hard, once we had the original to study. The atmospheric flow in and out of the openings is uniform, and we suspect it’s the result of activity under the surface.”

  “What else have you learned?”

  “As directed, we’ve been extremely careful to avoid detection. We have personnel reconfiguring the smallest existing recon robots to actually enter the planet atmosphere—and ultimately the tunnels themselves. However, we recently observed an event that was so significant that I knew I had to bring it to you personally.”

  He clicked another button, and the connected lines forming the circular ruins grew even larger. The cavernous crater nearby appeared to be as dark and dead as ever, but then it took on a rosy tint.

  “It doesn’t actually look like that, but this is a representation of what the scanners were picking up. We thought it indicated another ship launch, so you can imagine our surprise at what came out.”

  The rose-colored aperture took on a grainy texture, as if the feed were breaking up, but the rest of the surface remained clear. Reena craned her neck, watching as the red-hued crater appeared to start bleeding. Wisps of color began to run from the hole in all directions, moving with excruciating slowness.

  “What you’re seeing is recorded in real time.” Merkit answered her unasked question. The crater had now sprouted spider legs, but Reena noted a difference.

  “The ones farthest from the city site are turning toward it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Merkit’s voice took on an undertone of wonder. “What you’re seeing is the heat signatures of an enormous cloud of tiny, flying creatures. We scanned the entire event with everything we had, and our systems immediately found a m
atch.”

  “It’s the alien, isn’t it?” Ulbridge asked. “I mean, did the scans match the readings from Glory Main, when the alien was in the tube?”

  “Yes. It also matched the data collected by the Holy Whisper when the latest alien appeared at Gorman Station. And what the Ajax detected from orbit, when the thing would vanish in the desert.” Merkit’s voice came to Reena from a great distance. “It’s a perfect match. What you’re seeing is a cloud of millions, if not billions, of the tiny moth-like creatures that the original alien burst into on Glory Main, just before it was incinerated.”

  The runnels of red had picked up speed, the closest ones heading straight for the ruins while the others peeled off in perfect symmetry.

  “So that’s what they actually are?” Reena asked, as if speaking to herself. “Those flying specks that filled the decon tube when the thing disintegrated?”

  “There’s no reason to believe otherwise. They don’t know we found Omega, and they’re not trying to fool anyone by appearing to be something else. It makes perfect sense; as a shapeshifter, the alien had to consist of particles, infinitely small, that possess the capability to join together and function as the organisms they imitate.”

  The aerial ballet continued, with the first line of heat signatures reaching the dead city’s center. They reformed into a circle, flying clockwise while the other strings joined them. The trio of humans watched in silent amazement as the center circle was replicated numerous times, each one larger than the last and all of them rotating in the same direction.

  “They’re following the layout below them.” Ulbridge offered.

  “That’s right. It’s not visible to the naked eye, but somehow they know it’s there and what it looks like.” Merkit raised the control. “Here’s the best part.”

  The planet shrunk away from them, back to its original appearance as a head-sized ball in space—but with a difference.

  “My God,” Reena whispered. “Am I seeing this?”

  “I had the same reaction, Madame Chairwoman. But it’s true.”

  The hemisphere of the enormous planet facing them was speckled in red dots. Merkit enlarged the image, taking them away from the circular formation to one that resembled a diamond. The flying creatures performed an intricate dance, crossing over the city center while also outlining what appeared to be its buried boulevards. Another ruin was a spiral, and the red lines formed a stationary tumbleweed. In every case, the nearby surface crater glowed a rosy red.

  “The event lasted just over three hours, and then they all went back where they came from. They hadn’t done anything like this the entire time we’d been watching Omega, so we’re intrigued to see if they do it again.”

  “What do you think it was, General?”

  “Our experts have a range of theories. Some suggest the creatures lived in those cities ages ago, and this is their way of honoring the memory. Others are searching the readouts to see if the cities are a power source of some kind, in which case the creatures might be soaking it up. One of the analysts believes the creatures fly by sonar, and that they have to emerge every now and then from the confines of the tunnels to calibrate their internal systems.”

  “You don’t seem to buy any of that.”

  “It’s impossible to tell at this point, Madame Chairwoman. I’m hopeful it means that there is some kind of event going on in those craters that forces them out for a period of time.”

  “In which case, we could kill them in the open.”

  “That is my earnest hope.” Merkit raised the lights, and Omega vanished.

  “What’s the status of the recon robots?” Reena asked without looking at either of the men.

  “Almost ready to go. Needless to say, if we approach Omega we have to be prepared for the aliens to attempt to bug out. Something in there is building the ships the Sims are using to fight us, so they may have spacecraft in readiness for their own escape.”

  “You’ve worked up a plan?”

  “Yes. It will require substantial commitment of fleet assets. A cordon at a great distance, ready to move in on a moment’s notice.”

  “I’ll do you better than that, General.” Reena stood, her eyes on the spot where the enemy planet had been. “We can’t do this remotely, and the recon ’bots will only be able to tell us so much. It is vital that we determine what’s going on inside that rock, and for that we’ll need human eyes.”

  “My plan includes an emergency contingency involving nuclear weapons, ma’am.” Merkit spoke darkly. “We know very little about this civilization, and the aliens may respond to our intrusion in an unexpected fashion. They may leave us with no other choice but to nuke them, with little time in which to do it. Under those circumstances, any personnel on Omega . . . would have to be sacrificed.”

  “Understood. But we can’t just guess at what’s going on there. We have to know.” Reena turned to Ulbridge. “Work up a selection of options that will allow us to secretly reassign Banshee units, spacesuit-capable special operations forces, and any other assets that normally work with pressure suits so they can train for this mission.”

  “It’s a very big planet, ma’am.” Ulbridge intoned.

  “I know.” Reena blinked, hard. “Make sure you give me an option that sends them all.”

  Olech returned to consciousness feeling bruised, his eyes opening to look directly into the shattered irises of a dead soldier. That image had haunted his dreams for years after the war, but somehow he’d managed to lock it away in the recesses of his mind and hadn’t thought of it in a decade. Now, awaking from whatever suspended state Mirror consigned him to between sessions, Olech immediately knew where he was.

  He lay on his back, age fifteen and trapped in the wreckage of the craft that was supposed to be taking him and a batch of replacements to their first units in combat. A fragile helmet had prevented his brains from being beaten out when they’d been shot down, the stricken airship bouncing off the ground and rolling for what seemed like an eternity. It hadn’t been a troop shuttle, because those weren’t developed until later in the war. No, this one had been an ugly, fat-bellied cargo beast with rows of seats welded into its hold.

  Those welds had shattered on impact, the belted-in teenagers tumbling inside the cartwheeling hull, vocal cords screeching, each additional impact breaking off more and more seats, Olech screaming right along with them through the forearms pressed over his face. He’d screamed for a long time after the ruined vessel had finally come to a halt, its fuselage cracked wide open to let in the cold wind and the night air.

  Blood dripped onto his fatigue shirt, and he looked without wanting to. The boy hanging upside down over him had been impaled, skewered by a shattered stanchion, and his bodily fluids had run over Olech’s pinioned torso. He now remembered the pain in his lower back, just above his right hip, that he’d feared was a serious injury but had turned out to be merely the snapped-off end of a seat cushion spring. He’d been struggling to get his hand back there when the wind had brought the first loud, imperious string of caws.

  Bird sounds. Coming toward the downed craft, just outside the gaping fracture in the hull. It was the first time he heard Sim speech, and it flooded him with fear and disappointment. Fear because the enemy never took prisoners and mutilated the bodies of Force soldiers, and disappointment because it wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not his first moments in the battle area, not handed to the Sims like a sacrifice, not helpless. Like the rest of the Unwavering, Olech had accepted the likelihood of his violent demise trying to turn the tide of the losing war, but not like this.

  More caws, answered by chirps and peeps that he interpreted as the acknowledgments of a superior’s commands. His eyes frantically darting around, seeing nothing but broken metal and tangled wires and dead bodies. Not a weapon in sight, even though he couldn’t have reached it anyway. Feeling another breeze, this one closer, and seeing the smaller tear in the bulkhead not three feet away, sure he could wriggle his boy’s body through
it if only he could free himself.

  A sound like a tropical bird tittering in a jungle, and then fragmented beams of light sweeping across the scene of destruction. The lights flashed from the big wound in the hull, and then he’d heard the weak voice, a child’s voice; the Unwavering had been little more than an army of children.

  “Help me.” It sounded like a squeaky hinge, somewhere close to the lights. “I surrender. Don’t hurt me.”

  An automatic weapon turned the lights into a strobe, clattering like a broken machine and sending bullets rebounding all over with a thunder of echoes. More caws erupted; Olech could sense the anger over the ricochets, and the shooting stopped but so did the pleas. The lights returned, and vibrations thumped into his back as boots stomped on the fuselage and enemy soldiers started climbing aboard. Pushing the debris aside, making sure all of the humans were dead.

  Feeling his heart revving, his lips curling in a terror-stricken grimace, they were going to find him, he was going to die right here, right now, and then he was reaching for the dead boy hanging in his face. The body slid off of the skewer, landing on him with a ringing crash that set off another long series of bird calls but no shots.

  Now truly trapped, having only bought himself as much time as it would take for them to pull the corpse off of him, more blood and fluid soaking into his uniform, the tiny breeze calling to him to crawl that way, to live, to escape, if only he could move, but he couldn’t. The cracked hull was rocking slightly with all the activity, the beams were more distinct, the trills and caws burning into his brain as they struggled with the bodies that were trapped like he was, they were almost to him, and he’d grabbed the boy’s belt, meaning to hold the body in place no matter what.

  Peremptory caws, from the vicinity of the breach, and then the whole wreck was bouncing as the enemy rushed to leave. The beams swinging wildly, his would-be killers fleeing, and then all he could hear was the receding squawks as if a flock of birds had been chased from a familiar perch where they’d been resting.